


From Great Heights

by Smoochynose



Series: All that's said verse [3]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of comfort sex, What happens to those on the sidelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoochynose/pseuds/Smoochynose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was late when she phoned. He came running anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Great Heights

* * *

**From Great Heights**

* * *

 

It was late when Ben Daniels got the call. It was Alex. He was in the hospital. “I don’t want to be alone,” Jack confided.

Hearing the pain in the usually confidant woman’s voice, he didn’t hesitate in jumping in the car, braving the London traffic until he was at the door of the townhouse she shared with the teenager he had come to admire.

He knocked on the door and after some shuffling from the other side the woman opened it. Her eyes were red and there were tear tracks down her face. “Ben,” she greeted morosely, before leading him into the lounge. He didn’t need to be a spy to take in the half empty bottle of wine or the vodka waiting in the wings.

“It was bad this time, wasn’t it?” he asked.

Jack nodded, her composure almost breaking. A few strands of her red hair clung to her damp cheeks. “They weren’t sure if he would make it,” she admitted, gulping slightly halfway. “He fell. I’m not sure how far but he had massive internal bleeding. Why? Why him?”

Ben could have answered her honestly. He could have told her that it was because Alex was too good at what he did. He could have told her that it was because the boy was unique, special. Somehow he doubted that would have given his friend much comfort. He couldn’t say any of that so he simply said, “I’m sorry.”

Jack nodded. She poured herself a large glass of the wine and knocked it all back quickly. How many times had she done that already that night?

She looked up and noticed for the first time that she was the only one with a glass. “Sorry,” she said, grabbing a second glass and filling it up, “I guess you could use some of this too.”

Ben found himself agreeing to that and swigging down the glass just as readily as Jack had.

“It’s happened before, you know?” Ben looked up at the woman. “They weren’t sure if he would make it two years ago. It was so close. It was pure luck he survived.”

If Alex hadn’t mentioned to Ben one time his close brush with death when he betrayed Scorpia, he wouldn’t have known what she was talking about. However as it was all he could think of was small, seemingly inconsequential scar that lingered half a centimetre above the boy’s heart.

Jack emptied the last drizzles of wine out the bottle and toasted, “Bloody MI6.”

“Bloody MI6,” Ben agreed, conveniently forgetting that he was MI6, and downed the last dregs in his cup.

Jack reached for the vodka, unscrewed the cap, and not even bothering to find them clean glasses poured each of them a shot. “I wish you people had left him alone years ago,” she lamented.

Ben tried not to wince at the way she threw his lot in with the likes of Alan Blunt. He would never have used Alex if he was in that man’s position. It was for that reason he was one of the men out in the field and not sitting in the offices carefully planning and counter-planning attacks. “I do too.”

That was true. He hated the way they used him over and over again. He had contemplated leaving MI6 many times to re-join the SAS. He would even have gone back to that hell that was the Brecon Beacons training grounds if it meant he didn’t have to put up with the morally wrong ethics in MI6. He didn’t leave though. No matter how much he wanted to. Alex needed at least one friend in that place.

The vodka was downed and another shot poured each. Ben was beginning to feel the effects and, judging by the flushed face and slightly glazed eyes, Jack was too.

“It’s just so hard,” Jack moaned, collapsing down the sofa slightly until her cheek was resting on his leg. Had Ben in any other state he would have been embarrassed but the alcohol was pumping through his system and things like personal space were no longer an issue. “It’s always like this,” she continued. “Just when I think it’s getting better, that the danger’s passed, he goes and lands up in the hospital. And it’s worse now. Ever since he came back that time from Gibraltar it’s almost like he wants to do it. Before Alex would regret some part of it, even if he saved the world again. Now he believes it’s worth it. All that pain. That needless pain. How can he put himself through that?”

Then, much to his horror, Jack began to cry. He reached down to touch her face in a comforting manner. Jack leant into the touch, before leaning upwards and kissing him.

Suddenly they were in a flurry of kisses and touches. It was only when Ben was reaching to unclip Jack’s bra that his senses returned to him. Alex was in hospital, Jack was upset, and he was… He pulled away.

“Why’d you stop,” Jack half slurred.

“I can’t do this. You’re a mess. I’d be taking advantage of you.”

Tears rose in her eyes again. “Please,” she whispered, “I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”

That was all it took for Ben to give in, to allow Jack to lead him upstairs to the bedroom because she wasn’t the only one hurting. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to be close to someone. She wasn’t the only one who needed comfort.

And so they found it in each other.


End file.
